Thursday, July 31, 2008

How Dare She

Recently while walking my dog i came across a young hippie girl walking her big mutt. Usually when I see another dog out and about I cross the street to avoid conflict between the two animals. This day I did it as usual. I turned around while Misty (my dog) was doing her business. As I turned I saw the dog I was avoiding come darting at us. I decided I would kick it if it attacked. It didn't. It was one of those big dogs that like to play. Well I was about to yell at the lady for not having her beast on a leash. This is a big pet peeve of mine. The dog could hurt someone, encounter another dog that is not friendly, or get hit by a car. Put your damn dog on a leash. She came and started making conversation. She was one of those eccentric hippie people that only eat veggies and smoke pot. I usually really get along with those type of people. We talked for a bit but I was nervous because Misty can play a little rough and the other dog was much bigger than her. I told her I had to go because I was afraid Misty would get hurt. This woman proceeded to tell me that it would fine if I got rid of my negative energy that Misty was sensing from me. I told this bitch that I did not have negative energy but that I was protecting my dog, and hers, and I mentioned that some of the other dogs in the neighborhood are not friendly and to be careful in case her dog encounters one of them. AKA leash your dog. I didn't tell her that part, but I wanted to. I walked Misty back home, and proceeded with my day. I have encountered the same lady almost every time I walk Misty now. We have resorted to walking a new route to avoid her. I am going to start a neighborhood petition to have everyone leash their dogs when they are being walked. Might I mention she had the worst dye job of anybody I have ever seen in my life. I know this has nothing to do with my story but just because your a hippie doesn't mean you cannot have nice hair. I'm just saying.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Tragic and more Tragic

My partner and I spent Monday night drinking at home and watching music videos on CMT. You would think that this would have been a relaxing evening with good music and company, it wasn't. In our inebriated states we began a discussion about the differences and similarities between Carrie Underwood and Leanne Rimes. The discussion started out well comparing the two. Then it turned ugly. Dalton is a staunch supporter of Leanne Rimes and I am in love with Carrie. First I happened to mention that Leanne was popular in her time because she was a little girl with a great voice, and now she was a woman with a good voice.He said Carrie didn't pay her dues and didn't deserve her success. I mentioned that Leanne was 13 when she made it and she didn't either. Then he said Carrie could not sing like Leanne. I said he was right Carrie sings better. He said Carrie just got lucky and Leanne has sold more albums. I said yes after 12 years in the business. Carrie after 2 has out sold her. I went on to say that Leanne can no longer make the top ten, while Carrie is hitting number one left and right. He said it was because of American Idol, I agreed but went on to say if she were not good she would have fallen of the face of the earth after her first song. He said that I never respected Leanne. I said I always thought she was talented but she screwed up trying to go pop and when she came back to country Carrie had blocked her comeback. He said Leanne was more country than Carrie. I said Carrie was just inducted into the Grand Ole Opry and was more country. During this we continued to drink and it turned into a full fledged fight. We yelled at each other and then refused to speak to each other the rest of the night. We woke up the next day and realized just how sad we were. An old married couple who fought about something so stupid. I guess this is how it is. If our biggest fight in a year was about Carrie versus Leanne we are doing pretty good. We need hobbies.

Puff Puff

I recently tried to quit smoking. I failed. I am now 31 years old and am trying to be healthier. I eat right. I get some exercise, and take care of things as needed. However my one big vice is smoking. I don't use drugs, I avoid sweets as much as possible, and although I do enjoy a cocktail I know my limit there. All these things and I cannot break my smoking habit. I grew up in a smoking family. My grandpa smoked a cigarette while eating supper. My mother enjoyed a few years of smoking but was able to kick the habit. I can't seem to do it. It has gotten to the point that I no longer feel the side effects of it. There was a time when I would wake up with a sore throat and hacking up tar. I miss those times because it always cautioned me to skip a few that day. Now my poor body has just accepted this and I no longer have side effects. It is a gross and might I add expensive habit to have. It is a horrible nasty addiction. They have gotten so expensive in Chicago that I now drive to Indiana to purchase them. It might as well be crack and I'm Amy Winehouse. Alomost everyone in my social circle smokes. My partner and I plan weekend trips to Indiana just to buy them. Its ridiculous. Friends of ours who drive to Indiana for work always call us to see if we need them picked up for us. I know I need to stop but its a hard habit to break. I decided to try again next weekend. Wish me luck.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

I plucked Now I'm F******ed

I am one of the few men I know that admit to having to pluck his eyebrows to avoid a uni brow. I do this every couple of weeks when hair between my eyes gets long enough to braid. Yesterday was one of these days. I picked up my tweezers and hand mirror and began the painful process. When I was done I noticed that I could see long hairs peaking out from within my bushel of eyebrows. I decided it was time to man scape them. Again I began to painfully pluck out these long strains of hair. When I was done I noticed that stray hairs were growing at the end tips pf my brows. I plucked. Then I noticed course hairs growing at the arch. I plucked. Then I plucked more. Unfortunately I continued this process even further. When I was done with my plucking frenzy I decided to check out my work in the bathroom mirror. My eyes widened when I saw what I had done, but only one of my eyes seemed to catch this expression, the other one looked angry. One eyebrow was fine, it still held its natural arch and was cleaned up. The other however was as a ruler, I had plucked out its natural arch in my frenzy. All that was left was a big red spot. I am not one of those guys that shapes and sculpts his eyebrows. In fact I dislike it when guys do this to themselves, I pluck simply to clean them up. I don't know what got into me but now I am left looking surprised from one eye, and angry from the other. I think I am going to have to use a marker to fix my tragic work until grows back.

Down She Goes

Last weekend I spent Sunday drinking with a few buddies. Our intention was to have a few at brunch and then head home. This did not happen. We ended up staying a few hours more than we intended. In our buzzed state we decided to head to the strip of bars we frequented. We decided to take the train as it was cheaper and we wanted to use all our money for drinking. On the train we took our seats and began our journey into debauchery. At one particular spot an attractive young woman stepped onto the train. As she attempted to take her seat her skinny ass missed and she fell between her intended seat and the wall. She quickly jumped up red faced and sat down. Being the gentlemen that we were we proceeded to laugh out loud in unison. The young lady turned and gave us a dirty look. We turned our heads and stared out of the window trying everything in our power to hold in our laughter. A few stops later she exited the train just in time for her to miss the entire population of our cart burst into laughter. I tell this story as a warning. If you are skinny enough to fall between a seat and the wall which are very close proximity you need to eat more, and secondly laugh at yourself if you fall in public in will diffuse the situation. Those of you who have read some of my previous posts know that I speak from experience.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

I'm Hungry

I have been spending the better part of the week dieting. After many weeks of binging on fatty foods and ice cream I have begun to notice that when I take off my underwear a red mark stays imprinted on my skin. This is not good. Although I'm fairly comfortable with my weight I cannot let myself get to the point where I have a permanent tattoo around my waist that says BVD. I am going about the diet the right way. I bought tons of healthy food and I make sure to eat breakfast everyday.This also is not good. Instead of a heaping bowl of creamy smooth delicious ice cream I eat little tiny containers of yogurt. Instead of a greasy tasty cheeseburger I eat a bland dry turkey burger. Instead of a large wonderful peperoni pizza, which by the way I would run over a good friend with my car for, I eat a whole wheat lean pocket with pizza flavoring. Instead of being happy I am mad and hungry. Why did man have to invent Hostess Twinkies? Who came up with idea or pouring nacho cheese on tortilla chips and piling it with ground beef, guacamole, and sour cream, and why does it taste so good? Why do all the foods that taste the best have to be so bad for our waistlines? Sure you can all fool yourselves into thinking that soy milk tastes just like regular milk, or a stick of celery is just as satisfying as a candy bar, but your all wrong. It doesn't taste the same people, it never will! I don't want to eat baked chicken for dinner, I want fried chicken. Juicy crisp fried chicken I tell you. The kind that burns your mouth when you first bite into it, and grease trickles down your chin. The kind of fried chicken that crunches in your mouth as you chew. The kind you eat with a heaping steaming plate of mashed potatoes and gravy (and a biscuit). Excuse me while I go suck on an ice cube.